by Michelle Lee
“They’re no big deal,” Dash replies.
“No big deal? It’s not every day one of my best buds turns twenty-nine. This is it, bro. Next year it’s the nursing home,” Vic teases.
“Thanks.” Sarcasm is clearly evident in Dash’s tone.
“No problem, anytime.” Vic smiles all toothy. “So, tomorrow, press conference, rehearsal, and then paar-tay.” And then he’s gone.
I don’t even have a present for him. And he just got me a present, the most amazing present I’ve ever gotten, for no reason at all except he loves me and wanted to do something nice for me while we’re here in Italy. I need to do something, but what? And how?
“Jules.”
“Jules.” I feel someone nudge my side.
“Huh? Sorry, I was, I mean… I’m so sorry, I totally forgot tomorrow was your birthday.” If I can hear the disgust in my voice, I’m sure he can too.
“Jules, it’s no big deal,” Dash tries to assure me.
“No big deal? No big deal? Are you… I mean… Dash, it is a big a deal. A big deal I will correct tomorrow. I need to find Val.”
“Jules, really…”
“No… no really… you must think I’m the worst girlfriend in the world. I know I am… I should remember your birthday… I’m sure all those girls out there who were at the show the other night know your birthday… of course they do… they know everything there is to know about you… they probably know your underwear size… shit, I don’t know your flippin’ underwear size… isn’t that something a girlfriend should know… I should know… but I don’t… shit… what’s your…”
Dash’s lips silence mine. The kiss is hard and quick. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous when you’re rambling. And while they may think they know my underwear size, you’re the only one I want to know… so… medium… boxer brief… Calvin Klein.”
“Okay… okay… good to know… medium.” My mind wanders off. What the hell do you get the guy that has everything?
“Jules…”
“Sorry. Um, I’ll meet up with you later?” When I look up at Dash, getting out of my head, I can see the disappointment written all over his face.
“Sure, later. Good… later’s good…” I know he doesn’t really think it’s good.
“Definitely, you can count on it. After all, I do have a promise to keep, don’t I?” I run my finger slowly down his chest. His muscles react to my touch, and I love it.
Dash nods.
“Perfect, I’ll see you soon.” I reach up, my lips touching his, ghosting them as he’s done to me. The anticipation is the greatest turn-on. But Dash isn’t having any of it. He pulls me into him, deepening our kiss. A throat clears before we can deepen it too much.
“So, I’m gonna go find Val, and I’ll see you in your room in a little while, okay?”
He gives me a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
I give him one last peck on the lips before slipping away into the waiting elevator, leaving Dash standing there, a lustful expression on his face. I wiggle my fingers in a wave as the doors start to close. Before they close completely, Russell clamps a hand on Dash’s shoulder as Dash just stands there like a lost little puppy. Thankfully the doors close before I have a chance to jump out of the elevator and into his arms, kissing that sad look on his face. I have more important things to do, sadly, like figure out what the hell I’m going to get the man that has everything.
NEEDLESS TO SAY, when I found Val she wasn’t much help. Just get him anything, she said. As long as it’s from you, he’ll love it. Ugh. I wanted a definitive answer to my question. I thought about going to ask Vic or Lance, but decided against it. First, they were probably busy, and second, I can only imagine what Vic would come up with; probably a box set of porn or something. Actually that’s probably what he would want for his birthday. Since Val was no help, I decided to go to Dash’s room and keep my promise. I figured that would make him happy and be a pre-birthday present.
I made sure I exfoliated and shaved everywhere. And then I did it again, just in case I missed a spot. I lathered up with my vanilla-scented lotion before slipping on a simple jersey dress with a pair of ballet flats. I did make sure that my panties and bra matched. Tracy had thrown a few matching sets in various colors in my suitcase without my knowledge. Tonight’s color is purple, and the panties aren’t really panties but another thong, similar to the one I wore with those leather pants. I felt uncomfortable at first, but now I can’t even tell it’s there. Beside, let’s be real; I won’t be wearing it very long if Dash has anything to do with it. I make my way down the hall to his room, and Russell is coming toward me. As he gets closer, he has no expression on his face, which isn’t unusual, but when he passes by, he quirks a little smile, shaking his head. I can only imagine. I get to Dash’s room, and before I can knock on the door, it flies open. Dash looks alarmed until his eyes land on me, taking me in. His whole expression changes, and before I know it I’m pulled into his arms and into the room. The door slams shut behind us.
His hands are all over me, caressing, massaging. His nose runs the column of my neck as his lips kiss and suck along the way. I feel him inhale. “Mmmm, vanilla. My favorite flavor.” Dash’s mouth continues its path along my skin, causing me to shiver. His mouth trails back up to my ear. “You look completely fuckable and you smell edible. I want to celebrate my birthday early, and you’re my present. I need to unwrap you.” Before I can respond, Dash’s mouth is on mine. We are all lips, tongues, and teeth. The kiss is messy, hurried, and I love it—relish in it. Lost in the sensation, my body vibrating with need, Dash pulls away, but before I can protest, he hoists me up and over his shoulder. I can’t help the squeal that escapes. He turns on his heel and marches us over to the bed, dropping me down onto it, but not before he playfully smacks my ass. Another squeal escapes as I bounce on the soft bed. Dash stares down at me, his eyes darkening with desire. I lay on the bed waiting with anticipation, my eyes reflecting what I see back at him.
“Are you going to open your present?” My voice sounds sexy and playful at the same time.
Dash doesn’t answer with words. He answers by pouncing on me, but then says, “Happy fucking early birthday to me.”
WE SKIPPED DINNER and simply feasted on each other, devouring every inch of each other. It felt like it was my birthday too, and the present—or, presents to be correct—was orgasms, as in multiple. As in if I had one more, I thought my body would rip apart or my vagina would, or both.
Today is officially Dash’s birthday, and I still need to find him a present. I’m hoping to do that later today, but right now I’m bringing the birthday boy breakfast. I enter the bedroom pushing a room service cart loaded with what looks like breakfast for a very large family. Dash is sitting up against the headboard looking very lickable.
“Morning, Mr. Ford, and happy birthday.” My hand wavers over the array of breakfast items as if I’m Vanna White.
“Morning yourself, beautiful. What do we have here?”
I push the cart to the edge of the bed, taking a seat on the edge next to him. “Well, it’s your birthday breakfast feast. I couldn’t decide what to order, exactly, so I ordered a little bit of everything.”
He snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “I’m not exactly hungry for breakfast, more like…”
I roll my eyes. The man is insatiable, and at this rate my pussy is going to need a replacement. I giggle at the thought.
“What’s so funny, Sunshine?”
“Nothing.” He gives a challenging look, like he doesn’t believe me for a second. I clear my throat. “Roland called while you were sleeping, and you and the guys are needed downstairs within the hour.” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice, but I know it’s there nonetheless. I don’t, however, mention what an ass Roland was to me on the phone. He was very condescending and rude, but it’s something I’ve come to expect from him when he and I are interacting—just another thing I have to deal with being with Dash.
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”
“Well, you looked so sweet sleeping, and I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you. Plus, it’s your birthday and everyone deserves to sleep in a little on their birthday.” I shrug.
“Next time, wake me. The best birthday I can have is spending every possible moment with you.”
“Dash…” I’m overcome with emotion yet again because of something he’s said. The man really knows how to aim straight for my heart. “So, you better eat up. I don’t want Roland to think I’m keeping you from your band obligations.” Undoing my robe, I start to get up, looking around the room for my clothes.
“Wait, aren’t you eating with me?” He sounds confused and disappointed.
“I’m not really hungry. Besides, I have some shopping to do. Apparently, I didn’t remember my boyfriend’s birthday was today and I need to find him the perfect gift.”
“Sunshine, you’re my perfect gift.” He reaches for me, but I move out of the way, his fingers grazing my arm. How can he say such sweet things like that when I don’t really deserve them? Everyone deserves to open up some kind of present on their birthday. And let’s face it—I’m not much of a present; although last night tells me Dash enjoyed unwrapping me.
“You may think that, but I, on the other hand…”
“Don’t,” he demands, his voice low and forceful.
My eyes immediately flash to his, glistening. Damn it, I wish I could keep these stupid emotions in check.
“Jules, what I meant was it wouldn’t be a birthday if I wasn’t able to celebrate it with you. Actually, I probably won’t remember yours. Isn’t it in April?”
I giggle. He’s right; he won’t remember because it’s in May.
“What?”
“Okay, you’ve proven your point. Eat, and I will see you later tonight, okay?”
I lean down, kissing him. But for Dash, a simple kiss isn’t enough. His hands pull me closer to him, wanting so much more. I smile against his mouth, pulling away.
I stand up before things get out of hand and we end up back in bed, which will make him late, and I don’t need to give Roland any more ammunition. “We don’t have time now, but I promise…”
“Oh, I know you’re good at keeping promises.”
I smile at him, giving him another quick peck on the lips. “Eat, and I will see you later tonight.” With that, I turn and leave the room without looking back, because let’s face it; if I did look back, I wouldn’t be leaving the room any time soon.
AFTER I LEFT Dash, I went to my room, got ready, and ventured out. I must have walked a thousand miles going from store to store, trying to find the perfect present for Dash. Did I find it? Nope. I’ve got nada. I’m going to go back out after the press conference is over and that’s where I am right now. The guys are sitting at a long table facing several dozen reporters. Roland is hovering around somewhere, but I’m doing my best to avoid him and stay out of his way. Val is by my side, looking a little nervous. This is the first press conference the guys have done since Val became their PR rep, and I’m sure that’s why she’s nervous—Val’s a perfectionist in everything she does and she wants this press conference to be perfect not only for her, but for the guys as well. I have a feeling if all goes well, this will set things up in the future for all of them.
The guys have been fielding a few questions already when the next reporter speaks. “Dash, Paul Simmons for Rock Magazine. What direction will your next album go?”
Dash takes a moment to think and then answers, “The next album will be edgier with a harder guitar sound to it. We’ve been writing songs for it. It’s not much of a departure from our latest album, but it will be edgier.” Vic and Lance nod their heads in agreement.
“Vic, Bill Watts from Drum Elite. Rumor has it you are going to do a spread for Play Girl. Is there any truth to it?” another reporter speaks up.
Vic begins to flex his biceps while he reaches for the microphone in front of him, “Well, not that I wouldn’t be their best-selling issue, but the answer is no. No one from Play Girl has been in contact with me. So, if a rep from them is out there… call me.” The big goofball winks.
“Dash, Dash. Celeste De Luca, ‘Gente.’ Happy birthday, first of all. You have been photographed lately with a brunette by the name of Jules Bennett. What is the official word on your relationship with her? My readers are very, very curious?” a tall blonde with an Italian accent asks.
Dash closes his eyes, turning away from the gathered reporters for a moment. This is it. This is the moment the whole world knows about me, knows that I’m dating Dash, knows that we are together.
“Don’t worry, Jules, I told Dash how to answer that particular question. Keep it simple and get to the point, let them know you two are a couple and move on, so you can let out that breath your holding.” I feel her hand grab mine and give it a quick squeeze. I let out the breath I was apparently holding and anxiously wait for Dash to answer.
Dash turns back to the bank of reporters, takes a deep breath, and then grips the mic to answer. “Thank you for the birthday wishes. And to answer your question, Miss Bennett and I are very close friends. We may have dated somewhat on occasion, but we aren’t really exclusive.”
“So, this means she is not your girlfriend?” she continues to pry.
I feel like my heart has plummeted to my stomach. I’m going to be sick if he says what I think he’s going to say next. I grip Val’s hand probably, cutting off the circulation instantly. I feel like I’m on the edge of a cliff, nothing keeping me from falling off into the black abyss waiting for him to answer, and then he does. “She is a girl who is a friend. I wouldn’t necessarily call her my girlfriend.”
“Thank you. My readers will be thrilled.”
My heart slithers out of my body and it feels like that reporter, along with Dash, just stepped on it, obliterating it to smithereens. And that sick feeling I was having is in full bloom. I have to clutch my stomach to keep everything inside, except my heart; that’s gone already.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to our first official press conference. The press packets you received should answer any other questions you have. Again, thank you,” Roland announces, looking pleased.
Russell approaches the stage as the guys exit, while Val and I head to the waiting limo out front. No one pays attention to me as we make our way out, and why should they? I’m just a girl who is a friend, not necessarily a girlfriend. I’m yesterday’s news. I should be grateful for the lack of attention, but at what price? Val and I have been sitting in the limo for only a few minutes when the guys enter.
“Hey, Val, maybe you can set something up with Play Girl?” Vic questions, it sounding half like a joke and half serious.
Val just glares at him, giving him the ultimate bitch eye. “Vic, dear, they did call, but they didn’t want you. They wanted Lance,” she teases.
Vic’s mouth gapes open and then he just sulks into his seat, pouting like a child that got his favorite toy taken away. Val simply smiles triumphantly before turning her attention to Dash.
“Dash, I’m going to try to be as professional as I can, but I’m struggling, so forgive me when I ask, what the fuck was that? That’s not how we rehearsed it. When that question came up, and we knew it would, you were to say you were dating Jules, but would like to keep your relationship as private as possible and ask them to respect that since Jules isn’t in the business. Yet, that’s not what you did. If I wasn’t here in a professional capacity, I would fucking bitch slap you for what you just did.” The whole car goes silent, except for Roland who is getting in at the tail end of the conversation.
“I told him to answer that way,” Roland says matter of factly, settling in.
“Why? Why would you tell him to ignore what I said? I’m the PR rep, aren’t I?” Roland shrugs. Val turns her glare at him instead of Dash. “Then let me do my fucking job.”
“You’re doing a fine job. I just thought w
hat you told him wasn’t the best advice at the moment. And to answer your question, because it’s good for business. If they know he’s exclusively dating someone, sales go down, our female audience diminishes. It’s just good business. He appears available, and it makes the fans happy. And happy fans mean happier sales in all areas. So, if your friend can’t handle it, maybe she shouldn’t be in this relationship.” Roland spews his words and then takes out his phone as if it’s no big deal. I sit there with my mouth gaping open, fighting back the tears and the feeling of betrayal. I can’t believe Dash would actually listen to him and his screwed-up reasoning. Although a part of me can understand it. Tracy has said before that when the guys appear available, fans are happy because they think they have a shot and will download more albums, go to more concerts, and buy more merchandise.
“I’d say thank you, Roland, if it weren’t for the nagging pit in my stomach that is telling me it was wrong not to admit that Jules is in fact my girlfriend,” Dash responds through gritted teeth.
“Dash, I know it was hard, but it’s for the best. Jules understands, don’t you, Julia?” Roland looks straight at me, nothing but coldness in his eyes, daring me to say otherwise.
Before I can answer him, Dash says, “Well, I don’t understand. A lot of lead singers have girlfriends or are married. What’s the big fucking deal if I announce that Jules is really my girlfriend?” His voice is shaky with anger.
“Because guys like Adam Levine, Corey Taylor, and Jared Leto have their careers established. Their fan bases are spoken for, and yours isn’t,” he comes back with.
“I don’t give a fuck about their fucking careers, fan bases, or relationships; I only give a fuck about my relationship with Jules.” The muscles in Dash’s neck are straining, his nostrils flaring. If I were Roland, I would be scared because Dash looks like he’s out for blood at the moment, but Roland waves him off like it’s nothing.
Roland doesn’t say another word for the rest of the ride, nor does anyone else. Dash pulls me against him, and I can feel the anger emanating off of him in waves still. I interlace our fingers, hoping to reassure him I’m okay, that we’re okay. He smiles down at me, kissing the top of my head before he turns to glare at Roland. Actually, I think everyone is glaring at Roland, including Russell, but he’s completely oblivious that he’s done anything wrong and is too busy to care as he pays attention to his precious phone. I so want to smack him upside the head with it. Dash pulls me closer to him as we continue back to the hotel. I smile up at him again, trying to convey that everything will be okay. But will it? That question is at the forefront of my mind. I’m afraid once we get back to the hotel and I ask him why he answered like that, why he ignored the advice Val gave him and listened to Roland, I won’t like the answer.
